The Bells of Saint Merlin
by LadyEmrys17
Summary: Merlin goes wherever his feet decide to take him, which one autumn morning, just happened to be the swings of a children's play area. Short 'n' sweet one shot modern Merlin/Doctor Who crossover thingy, based on the prequel to the bells of saint John.


**HELLO! This is my first fanfic! woohoo! I really hope you like it, Its a one shot Merlin/Doctor Who crossover based on the Bells of saint John prequel. I really wanted to get it out before the actual episode airs on Saturday! (SUPER EXCITED!) Just to point out that sadly, I don't own Merlin or Doctor Who, but I'm guessing you knew that...so yeah! ON WITH THE FIC! (I've always wanted to say that!)**

Merlin was bored.

So bored of being alone, of waiting. Impatience was childish, surely his 1000 plus years on earth would've taught him that, but when you don't know exactly what you're waiting for, it's difficult not to get edgy.

Merlin had tried everything to keep himself entertained. He'd gotten himself in a few history books, ended a couple of wars…maybe accidentally started one or two, but it was never enough. Sometimes, he'd grow to be so miserable that he'd return to Avalon. He'd sit by the water and just wait, like the dragon had instructed him to do, and not move for months. Occasionally years. He'd sit and go in on himself, allowing the memories he usually blocked out to return. There Merlin would stay, by the lakeside, until the physical pain of the memories became too much and forced him to leave.

Those first years were the worst, the years when Merlin hadn't known his destiny made him immortal. He remembered that terrible night in Avalon, when the winds of a brutal storm had made the walls of Merlin's tiny hovel tremble and bullets of rain shattered against the windows. A weak and elderly Merlin had blown out his bedside candle that night, knowing he would die in his sleep. Knowing he wouldn't have to face his destiny any longer. Knowing his time among men was finally over and he could find peace at last. He might even see Arthur again.

The moment his eyes snapped open the next morning, an overwhelming feeling of freshness and youth had almost suffocated him. He sat bolt upright, gasping, and stumbled out of bed across the room to the grimy mirror that had been nailed clumsily to the wall.

His heart sank at the sight that greeted him.

Staring back was the wide eyed, big eared, raven haired, lanky boy that he thought he would never see again. Apart from his sleep ruffled hair which stuck out at every angle, and of course the pyjamas, he was the spitting image of the man who had pushed the boat carrying Arthur out onto the lake of Avalon all those years ago.

Anyone else would've been surprised, overwhelmed, delighted even, to be given a second chance at life, but Merlin just groaned and staggered back to bed. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy not having to endure every bone in his body aching and feeling completely useless, but the novelty of being reborn kind of wore off after two, three, four...or fourteen times in Merlin's case.

And so it was that he found himself wherever his feet decided to take him, which today happened to be the swings of a quiet childrens play area. Merlin quite liked being round children, not in a creepy way! It was just that these days, adults were scared stiff by work, bills and a deteriorating economy. People 'his age' were busy getting pissed and having sex on Greek islands. Teenagers were living on either twitter, facebook or tumblr and fanaticising about making out with vampires.

Merlin really didn't understand people's obsession with vampires nowadays.

It seemed the only people with their heads on the right way round were children. He sighed as he leisurely pushed himself back and forth on the swing, watching a group of particularly small children take it in turns to sit in the middle the round-a-bout while the others made it spin at amazingly high speeds. The child in the middle would scream with delight before eventually begging for mercy and stumbling off the round-a-bout.

He let their cries fade into the background and closed his eyes. The cold warmth of the autumn sun shone down on his pale skin and he breathed the fresh air deep into his lungs. He loved these little nature spots, they were some of the last places he could really feel the magic flowing through the fabric of the earth around him. Merlin smiled to himself at how peaceful he felt.

"Hello"

Merlin reluctantly left his trance and slowly opened his eyes to see where the squeaky greeting had come from. At first, Merlin couldn't see anyone. Fear grabbed at his heart as his immediate thought was that the voice was in his head and the druids had found him. Maybe Mordred had returned. It was only when Merlin spun his head round in panic that he found the owner of the voice.

Sat on the opposite swing, beaming up at him, was one of the children from the round-a-bout. The boy, maybe seven years old, was bundled up a bright red puffy coat so that you could barely see his rosy cheeks. He had an impressive shock of dazzling blonde hair and a pair of shining blue eyes. Flushed and still out of breath from his go on the round-a-bout, the boy waited patiently with a friendly, toothy grin on his face, for his welcome to be returned.

"Hello" replied Merlin, nervously fiddling with his still ever present neckerchief. If he ever talked to people, it was usually just to mumble an apology for absentmindedly bumping into them, or a friendly but brief greeting before that person got on with their life. But this boy carried on talking.

"Why are you sitting on the swing?" He asked innocently, starting to mimic Merlin, kicking the swing into action and copying his slow, relaxed rhythm he had going.

"Why shouldn't I?" Merlin answered, almost a little too defensively.

"Because you're old!" He couldn't help but let a little giggle escape, as if the answer was so obvious.

Merlin sniggered at that. 'Yes, I'm 1500 years old!' He thought to himself, but resisted the temptation to say it aloud, instead simply answering "Yeah that's true, that's…that's very true" As he said it he realised just how old he really felt, even though he'd regenerated only a couple of months ago. He looked down and quickly started twiddling his thumbs, so the child couldn't see the frown that had appeared on his face.

"My Mum says I shouldn't talk to strange men" The boy continued casually, obviously not noticing the change in atmosphere. "Are you strange?"

This time Merlin properly laughed, he loved how perceptive children were. "Oh I'm way past strange" He leaned around the chain of the swing towards the little

boy and whispered "I think I'm probably incredible."

The boy, who had been listening intently, giggled at that, a sweet little giggle that reminded Merlin of some wind chimes that used to constantly tinkle in Gaius' Chambers back in Camelot. Camelot. A wave of depression flooded him again as he thought of the only place in the world he had ever been able to properly call home. He sighed, closing his eyes again, ignoring the child.

"Are you lonely?" the boy perked up. Merlin reopened his eyes for the second time and turned to look at him, properly this time. The look in his eyes was one of true concern, a concern Merlin didn't know it was possible for seven year olds to have. Most children this age spent their time on angry birds (the game that had taken Merlin a whole 10 minutes to complete), but he could tell this boy was different from the rest. His confidence was mesmerising and Merlin couldn't help being drawn in.

"Why would I be lonely?" He asked cautiously.

"Because you're sad" The boy explained." Have you lost something?"

"No" Merlin answered quickly. It was starting to get scary how the child was asking all the right questions. Yes, he had lost something, he'd lost his life in Camelot, everyone he had known. He'd lost his best friend. He'd lost Arthur.

As if hearing Merlin's thoughts, the boy continued "When I lose something, I go to a quiet place and close my eyes and then I can remember where I put it!" He continued swinging gently on the swing, watching his friends take their turns on the round-a-bout.

Merlin considered this for a moment, he knew his problems couldn't be fixed simply by sitting in a quiet room, but he politely replied "Good plan."

"I'm always losing things" the child added "I lost my best pencil, my school bag, my Gran AND" he turned to look up at Merlin, a look of wild excitement in his eyes as he remembered the last thing he had lost "MY MOJO!"

"Your mojo?" Merlin asked, rolling the strange word awkwardly off his tongue.

"I got it back though!" the child reassured him.

"Ay that's good!" The warlock exclaimed, playing along.

The strange pair sat on the swings in silence for a minute, swaying in unison. Eventually, the boy spoke in that open and concerned tone he had so expertly mastered. "What did you lose?"

Merlin considered lying to him again, but couldn't bring himself to do it. "My friend" he admitted "I don't think I'll ever find him again" If he had said this to anyone else, Merlin was pretty sure he'd have broken down, but he felt weirdly comfortable around this child.

"Have you been looking? He asked

"Yeah, everywhere" Merlin half said, half sighed. He lifted his feet off the ground whilst still swinging, and started to clap his new converse boots together self-consciously.

"That's sad" the boy commented.

"It is a bit."

Merlin looked up to see a woman standing by the park gates, eyeing him suspiciously. It wasn't hard to guess who this woman was. "Hey, is that your Mum?"

"Yeah" The child said glumly "I better go and see if she's alright."

"Yeah, I think you better had!" Merlin agreed, offering a friendly smile and expecting him to dash off to his apprehensive mother. However, yet again, the boy carried on talking.

"How you gonna find him?"

"Well" Merlin pondered aloud "The first time I met him, I just sort bumped into him so I thought maybe if I just…wondered about a bit, I might bump into him again." The child looked puzzled, so Merlin elaborated "You know, kind of like…destiny sort of" He grinned with pride at how easily he was able to say the word that had haunted him his entire life.

"That's rubbish!" yelled the boy excitedly.

"I think it probably is." Sighed Merlin, wondering why he ever bothered to listen to Kilgharrah. "Hey maybe I could find a quiet room and have a good think about it instead."

"That would be better." The boy confirmed, nodding his head for good measure. "Goodbye!"

And with that, the child hopped off the swing and stumbled towards his mum. Merlin raised his hand to wave a half hearted goodbye. Truth be told, he didn't want him to leave, it had been decades since he'd had such a long conversation and he really felt like he be could himself around the boy.

Without warning, he spun round, almost toppling over in the process and screeched over to Merlin. "Mister! I hope you find him again!"

Smiling at the thought that someone, even if it was a seven year old child, seemed to care about him. "So do I."

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. He called back to the boy "So see you around…Dollop head!" Merlin smirked, eagerly awaiting the boy's reaction to the name he had only ever called Arthur. The tiny child puffed up his chest, widened his stance, put his hands on his hips and pouted in a way that already had Merlin laughing.

Then the boy did something that Merlin would never have expected in a thousand years.

"Well If I'm a Dollop head, you're a…you're a Clotpole!" The boy turned and waddled off across the park to his waiting mother who met him with a loving embrace. Merlin watched the scene play out in front of him, open mouthed. His heart thrashed violently in his chest and he could feel his magic, which he had kept locked away for so long, flaring up and coursing through his veins.

He had called him Clotpole.

Clotpole, the name Merlin had only ever given one person. There was only one person who suited that name and could have known it. That person was someone Merlin didn't think he would ever see again, someone he thought he had lost forever. That person was the greatest warrior in all the five kingdoms, the once and future king of Albion…and had just been sat talking to Merlin on a park swing.

Merlin threw himself off the swing and cried manically "ARTHUR!"

Not understanding how strange it was that the stranger knew his name, Arthur turned his head and opened his mouth to shout one final farewell, but his mother tugged him impatiently and led him out the park and out of sight.

Merlin had to grab wildly for the chain of the swing behind him to stop himself from feinting. He slowly lowered himself back onto the swing and froze. Was this even possible? The dragon had said Arthur would return, but like this? His friend's own words came to mind as he realised what it all meant.

"It's a new day" he whispered quietly in disbelief, so quietly he himself barely heard it. He glanced up in the direction the boy had just disappeared in and his goofiest, most ecstatic smile lit up across his face.

Arthur Pendragon had found him.


End file.
